It Was the Mountain that Led Me to You
by gothicbutterfly95
Summary: AU. Georg is forced to go look for Maria when he discovers she didn't arrive at the Abbey after leaving the night of the party.
1. Chapter 1

Georg felt groggy when he woke up the morning after the party.

He had cursed himself on many occasions in the past few weeks for agreeing to let Elsa host the infernal shindig, and he had received exactly the experience he'd expected: a long night full of tedious socialising, forced smiles, and encounters he'd sooner forget.

Most of the guests he barely knew – Elsa had said it was so she could meet all his friends in Salzburg, but in the end most of the guests were friends of hers. The few guests that were his friends he had not seen in years, and half the people invited didn't speak to the other half.

Everything had been a slog through the worst parts of high society he found himself beholden to thanks to his birth.

His heart had been full of pride when he watched his children say goodnight to the guests, but beyond that all his recollections were mediocre.

All except one.

When he had danced with Maria, for one moment Georg had forgotten about everything else. They had been outside in the courtyard, away from the cloying glitz and glamour of the ball. The band had been playing not an elegant waltz, but the traditional folk dance of the Laendler. His partner had been wearing a simple dress that, though not formal, fit her character just as much as the dance itself; and looked more alluring than any woman inside.

He had managed to avoid dancing until then, and it was only after Elsa had found him just before dinner and swept him out onto the dance floor, that he realised just how magical it had been dancing with Maria.

He'd dropped the 'Fraulein' in his mind long before, but he'd known in that moment, he had fallen in love.

* * *

After he managed to pull himself out of bed and dress, he slowly made his way downstairs. He was heading for his study when something caught his eye. On the hall table outside the parlour was an envelope.

Without stopping to think about it, he picked it up and looked at it. On it was written a single word: _Captain_

With a growing sense of unease, he opened the envelope, slid out the paper inside, and began to read.

_Dear Captain,  
I'm sorry about this but I feel it's time for me to return to the Abbey.  
Please say goodbye to the children for me.  
I will miss you,_

_Maria_

The note was so short, yet it seemed to take Georg forever to process it. He stood stock still, looking at, but not seeing, the piece of paper in his hands.

Had he read that right? He was so overwhelmed that he let go of the note, and, along with the envelope, it fluttered to the floor.

"Sir, is everything alright?" a voice asked.

He looked up to see Franz looking at him curiously.

"Sir?"

"Uh, yes," he said, in an almost disconnected voice. He was surprised he could still speak. "Yes, everything is fine Franz. Thank you."

Though it was anything but.

He bent down to retrieve the piece of paper, seeing Franz watching him skeptically out of the corner of his eye. But by the time he'd stood up, the butler had vanished.

He clutched Maria's note to his chest, fully away he was being more sentimental than he'd likely ever been before. But he didn't care.

It was all he had of her.

The paper looked like a missing page from a book – _had she torn it from her Bible?_ – and it was smudged with tears. She'd been crying.

Why?

Why, why, why?

He raced up the stairs towards the staff wing, not caring if he disturbed anyone. He'd already seen Franz. Surely the rest of the staff would be awake by now.

Maybe that was it. Maybe she hadn't left, and was simply still asleep. Given her tardiness – which Georg now realised he found almost endearing – that could be plausible.

But there was no sound inside the governess' bedroom. No snoring, or light breathing, or anything to indicate someone was there.

His dread only increased when he slowly turned the handle and cautiously stepped inside.

It was dark inside but the emptiness of the room was still clear. It wasn't simply that it was devoid of any indication Maria was there; it was as if she had never been there at all.

No, wait, there was.

He noticed that her closet was open, and his eye caught a glimpse of the purest blue. Her dress. The one she'd worn the night of the puppet show.

She had looked so beautiful.

Georg allowed himself one moment to think back; think about that wonderful night. Was that when he fell in love with her? Was that when it started? Was that the first night he dreamt about her?

He wished he was dreaming now.

But when he opened his eyes, Maria wasn't there. Only the beautiful blue dress.

Now nothing more than proof she had been here.

But nothing changed the fact that now she had gone. Left them. Left _him_.

Without saying goodbye; even to the children.

The children!

What was he going to tell the children?

* * *

Georg was listless throughout the entirety of breakfast. His coffee seemed cold and the food was tasteless.

He could only think about Maria, and how she had awakened something inside of him. Because of her he was a better father, a better man. But more than anything, he had found himself feeling the things he had pushed away since Agathe had died.

For too long he'd been too scared to let himself feel anything. Now, when it didn't matter how he felt, he was feeling everything.

He'd told Frau Schmidt to wake the children and help them get ready for breakfast. He'd told them Maria had returned to the Abbey; temporaily, because she needed time to think. He thought it was the best.

The children were sad, but had accepted his story without complaint. He thought maybe the older ones had some suspicions, but none of them pushed it.

Neither had Max, who, being abnormally quiet and calm, Georg guessed knew that something was amiss.

It didn't matter, he'd reasoned. He knew Maria well enough to know that she would not leave without a reason, especially not without a goodbye to the children. He also knew that if she had gone, he had to respect her wishes.

But he wasn't going to let her get away without telling her that he loved her.

* * *

The first thing he had to do was call the Abbey. Even though she had left, Maria was still under his care. He needed to make sure she had made it back to the Abbey.

He didn't even care that Max had followed him into the study. His friend could run his liquor cabinet dry for all he cared right now. There was only one thing on his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted when the telephone finally connected.

"Nonnberg Abbey," a voice said. "This is Sister Catherine."

"This is Captain von Trapp," he said. "I was just calling to make sure Maria made it back to you safely."

He hated the words as he said them. He didn't want her at the Abbey; he wanted her here, at home with him and the children.

"Back to us?" Sister Catherine seemed confused. "She was sent to your house as a governess, was she not?"

"Yes," Georg said. "But she left in the middle of the night. She left a note saying she was going back to the Abbey."

"Oh," the nun seemed worried, but only for a moment. "Well I'm sorry Captain, but we haven't seen her."

Ice cold dread filled Georg. If something had happened to Maria, he would never forgive himself. As Sister Catherine had said, she was under his protection.

"But we will be certain to let you know if we do," she continued.

"Likewise," Georg replied, knowing immediately it was false. If – no, when – he found Maria he was not going to let her go. Telling the nuns would be the last thing on his mind.

He hung up the phone, almost numb. He didn't think it could get worse than Maria disappearing in the middle of the night – the same night he realised he was in love with her – without a word to anybody, but it had.

She had not arrived at the Abbey.

Even if she had had to walk all the way through town, it could not have taken her all night.

What had happened? The note made it seemed like she was desperate to return to the Abbey – she'd left in the middle of the night for goodness' sakes, of course she was desperate – and yet she hadn't made it there.

Something had to have happened.

"Well Georg," "Max said. "What happened?"

He'd completely forgotten Max was there. He didn't have the energy to say nothing was wrong, nor was there a point. Max knew him too well.

"She never made it to the Abbey," he said robotically. "What am I going to do?"

"What do you mean?" Max sounded confused. "You should go after her."

"But…" Georg asked. "…Elsa?"

He was surprised he'd even remembered Elsa.

"You are not engaged to Elsa yet," replied Max, matter-of-factly, "And she won't be up for hours."

"That's very comforting Max," Georg said dryly.

"Well," replied Max with a shrug. Then he became serious. "But Georg, given the myriad terrible situations our little Fraulein could have gotten herself into, you have to go find her."

"But –"

"But nothing," interrupted the impresario, before turning wistful. "You say sometimes you don't believe you know me, but with some things I will never understand you."

"What do you mean Maximilian?"

"If you love this woman, go get her," Max replied. "What are you waiting for?"

Georg just stared. He had heard what Max had said to Maria the night before as she tried to dash away up the stairs. He thought he'd be asking for some sort of ulterior motive; another chance to get the children to perform at the festival. Or even just because she was the governess.

He hadn't expected him to say _that._

"You do love her, don't you?"

Max wasn't really asking.

Georg's silence was answer enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Maria did not know what time she left the von Trapp villa the night before, nor when she had arrived back in Salzburg. It had still been dark, so she hadn't been walking all night, though it certainly felt that way.

She had made her way through the streets in the near-blackness – this was nothing new, she'd done it before – all the way to the Abbey.

But she had paused upon arriving at the stone staircase. She didn't know if she could face the nuns. She didn't doubt that they would be kind and compassionate, but that didn't changed the fact that she had failed.

She had been sent to the von Trapp's to find out if the life of a nun really was for her.

She had returned more confused than ever.

No, she couldn't return to the Abbey; not yet anyway. She couldn't return until she had cleared her head.

So much had happened in the past twelve hours. She had had the most wonderful experience of her life, and the most terrifying within the space of an hour.

Maria liked to consider herself resilient – to survive a childhood like hers you had to be – but she had only ever been this scared once before. And, just as she had last night, she had run.

She could face any problem thrown her way, except fear. She didn't get scared easily, but when she did, she got terrified.

And when she got terrified, she ran.

Fleeing the von Trapp villa had been hard though, almost heartbreaking, but, like the long-ago night she'd fled from her uncle, her fear had won out.

Now, back in town, her fear had eased somewhat. But it had been replaced in equal measure by confusion.

She needed to think.

And almost subconsciously she found herself walking in the other direction, heading towards Neu Anif.

Maria knew the station wouldn't open, or the first train leave, for some time. But this was the only thing she could do. The mountain would help her.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to rise when Engelbert arrived. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there on the bench for. Waiting had been torturous; everything she didn't want to think about bouncing around in her brain like one of Friedrich and Kurt's balls. Every time she tried to think of something else, another unwanted thought would rise to the surface.

"Maria?" said the station master. "Are you alright?" He sounded surprised, but looked concerned.

"Yes," she nodded, though her shaky voice begged to differ. "I'm fine."

How many times had she said those words before? How many times had she lied?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she restated.

Engelbert looked as if he wanted to argue, but didn't push anything.

"Well, find yourself a seat then," he said. "First train leaves in ten minutes."

* * *

There were only three other people on the train with her. Not many people took the earliest train – they usually waited for the second or third – but this time it was especially empty.

Or did it just _feel _emptier than usual?

If there were any children aboard, Maria sometimes talked to them, but now there was only a lone older gentleman, and a couple of women, likely friends or sisters.

And Maria didn't feel like talking anyway.

* * *

She felt better once she was up on her favourite meadow. But not much. She had been nothing by joyful and carefree up here every other time. Now, she felt much calmer, but her mind was no clearer and her thoughts no less jumbled.

It made her realise the enormity of her situation.

Maria had never given up on love; she had never had it to begin with, and you couldn't give up on something you'd never had. Between her mother dying when she was only two years old, and her desire to become a nun starting before she turned eight, love was never something she'd considered.

She had never felt this way before. She didn't even know what she was feeling. That was what scared her the most.

She splashed some of the water from the brook onto her face. What was she going to do?

She couldn't return to the villa, as much as she wanted to. It had felt like home, but it wasn't, and was never going to be. The Abbey had also felt like home, but she couldn't go back there either.

She was lost.

Why did Herr Detweiller ask her to stay for the rest of the party? Why had the Captain agreed? Why had _she _agreed?

Had she agreed? She remembered how flippant the Captain had been when he told her she could join them, and she'd panicked when Herr Detweiller grabbed her hand – that much she was sure of – but she had still sighed and made her way upstairs to change her dress.

Once back in her room, she had even considered not returning, with an excuse that she was too tired, or that the children had required her attention.

But then the Baroness had knocked on the door.

She supposed the woman had every right to talk to her about her relationship with the Captain. It didn't take a genius to see that he was all but engaged to Elsa Schraeder, while she was just the lowly governess.

Their relationship shouldn't be as close as it was. In fact, her relationship with the children could be considered too amiable for a governess and her charges.

The Baroness was simply reminding her of the truth.

By telling her the truth.

Was she in love with the Captain? What would that mean for her? What would that mean for the Captain? The Baroness? The children?

Why had her heart beat so fast when they were dancing, only to slow down almost completely?

Why had her hand tingled when she held his?

What was happening to her?

* * *

She stayed up there, trying to sort out her thoughts and getting nowhere. Five trains came up, and another five went down. They came up every half-hour, so she'd been there for almost three hours.

She hadn't eaten since before the party started last night, when she'd had a light supper with the children. Now, her stomach was growling loudly, she knew she needed to head back down the mountain, at least for a short while, to find something to eat.

But before she could do more than stand up, she heard the sound of feet, and somebody panting.

"Maria!"

Slowly, she turned around.

It was the Captain.

* * *

**The Untersberg is out at Neu Anif, but the scenes for Maria's mountain were obviously completely different locations. Also, you have to get a cable car up there; it's far too high and steep for a train, but I wanted to include that geographical point.**

**Have a great day!**


	3. Chapter 3

Georg was running out the door, and had driven the car out onto the road in record time. He didn't know where he would go or how he'd get there or anything beyond one thought:

_I'm coming, my love. I need you to be alright. I need you to know._

* * *

As he neared Salzburg, Georg became more anxious.

He had kept his eyes peeled for the entire drive, and had seen nothing whatsoever – good or bad – to indicate Maria had been anywhere. He wasn't sure if it reassured him more or terrified him more.

If nothing was amiss, then she was either perfectly safe, or in terrible trouble, most likely a long way away from Salzburg.

He had no leads for either, so gunning the engine, he paused to think. He tried to focus on the positive outcomes. If she was safe, but wasn't at the Abbey where she could be. Where would his Maria go…?

_You should see Fraulein Maria's mountain, Father_

_When can we go on another mountain picnic?_

_I wish it wasn't raining…I want to go up to your mountain_

He started the car again and drove away in the opposite direction.

* * *

Georg thanked his lucky stars he'd arrived just before a train left. Five minutes later and he would've missed it. He couldn't stand waiting another half hour to see whether she was up there. He didn't know what he'd do if she wasn't…

He knew 'Maria's mountain' had to be the Untersberg. There were really no other options, and it was perfect for picnics and the other activities the children had mentioned.

When the train finally stopped, he had to refrain from pushing past all the other passengers and running full tilt out into the meadow. But when the crowd had dispersed, he didn't have to look very far

There in the distance, sitting by a tree near the brook was one lone person; the slight figure of a young woman with short, light copper hair.

* * *

"Captain?" Maria stammered, startled at the sight of her employer running up the hill toward her. "Why are you – what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he said, as if the answer was obvious. Now that she thought about it, it probably was.

"I called the Abbey," he continued, panting. "They told me they hadn't seen you. I had to make sure you were okay."

"Well, I'm fine," Maria replied shortly. "I was just about to leave actually."

That didn't seem to placate him at all. Was he going to insist on delivering her to the gate? Did he not believe her?

"Maria," he said sternly. "Why did you run away?"

"I told you in my note," she replied. Why was he asking? Surely this was as obvious a fact as that he had come looking for her to ensure she was alright. "I miss the Abbey."

It wasn't a lie. Not completely anyway. She did miss the Abbey; but she couldn't bring herself to face the nuns just yet.

"No you don't." He didn't miss a beat.

"I do," she insisted.

"No, you don't," he repeated. "If you did you wouldn't be up here."

Maria opened her mouth.

"Don't even try to lie to me, you can't do it properly." He didn't sound harsh at all. If anything, he sounded mildly amused.

She closed her mouth. She couldn't say anything. He was right. If she had missed the Abbey as desperately as she had claimed, she would've gone straight there, not making a detour halfway across town to visit her mountain.

They both knew that.

There was a long silence, each passing second making Maria more uncomfortable, until the Captain continued:

"Please Maria," he said, almost sorrowful. "Why did you leave?"

He'd done it again. He'd called her Maria. No titles, no preamble, no 'Fraulein'. Just Maria.

He was so kind and gentle; so different from the stoic and almost cold-hearted man she'd met the day she arrived.

She couldn't lie to him.

She didn't want to lie to him.

"I – I was scared."

"Of what?" he said, immediately looking panicked. "Me?"

"No, no," she replied. She had panicked when he first arrived – in fact it was the last thing she wanted – but she didn't want to upset him.

Or worse, to have him blame himself. "Me. I was – am – scared of myself. Of how I feel."

"And what do you feel?"

"I – I don't know," she admitted softly, praying her voice wasn't shaking. She took a deep breath, before continuing in a firmer tone: "But it doesn't matter. Now, I think it's better for everyone if I return to the Abbey."

"Please, let me take you," the Captain said softly. To Maria, he sounded sadder than he had a moment ago.

"That won't be necessary, sir," she replied. "But thank you for the offer." As terrified as she was seeing the Captain again, Maria knew he was simply being kind, rather than giving her pity, or treating her like some kind of charity case.

"Very well," he sighed. "But just let me say something first."

"Yes."

He had cared enough to seek her out, to make sure nothing bad had happened. They would never see each other again, and though deep down that pained her, Maria knew the least she could was listen to him this one last time.

He took a deep breath before he spoke:

"I love you."

She froze. Out of everything he could've said to her, she never would have expected him say that. She could barely form a response.

"What?"

"I love you," he repeated simply.

"W-what?" she stammered. "How? I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," he said. "I had been living in grief so long, wallowing in it. Maybe in some ways I relished it," he admitted. "I had been living a half-life for so long, I forgot what really living felt like."

He paused and was silent for a long moment, but Maria knew better than to interrupt.

"And then something happened. Some_one _happened. And I was truly living again," he continued. "But I didn't recognise it. Not at first. Then one day – one night – all of a sudden, it was standing before me."

"You stood before me," he looked her in the eye; like last night, like the night of the puppet show. Her heart stopped.

"You were the one who did that for me."

This couldn't be the truth. Maria had just helped him remember the children, and vice versa. To bring them together as a family. That had been her mission from God. She couldn't have helped him this much.

Could she?

"And you felt it too, didn't you?"

She could only nod. She had felt something. But then the terrifying conversation with the Baroness resurfaced in her mind.

"Are you sure, sir?"

"What do you mean, Maria?" he asked, puzzled. "Of course I'm sure."

"Well, the Baroness," Maria tried not to cry as she forced herself to speak through the lump in her throat. "She said that you'd get over it soon enough. She said it's what men do."

For a moment the Captain looked confused. And then he turned livid. Even on the day they'd argued by the lake, he hadn't looked this angry. He looked down and let out a curse that Maria would've gasped at on any other occasion.

Then, he gentled and turned back towards. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She was so overwhelmed she didn't protest when he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry Maria," he said. "Elsa had no right to say such things to you. I want you to know that it is not true."

"Of course it's not," whispered Maria, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't understand how someone like you could love somebody like me."

"You are beautiful and kind and brave," he said. "You brought my children back to me, you love them as if they were your own, and sometimes I feel like they are. You make me a better person, Maria. I can't imagine what our lives would be like without you."

Maria could only stare.

"Do you not want that to be true?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"I do," Maria replied, realising at that moment how very true the statement was. "I just feel like you deserve someone better; like the Baroness. I don't deserve this."

"You deserve all the happiness in the world," he told her, his voice serious. He let out a sigh before continuing. "And, if returning to the Abbey and becoming a nun makes you happy, I want nothing but that for you."

"I don't know if that's what I want anymore," she admitted softly. "Maybe I never wanted it."

Hearing the Captain bare his soul to her she had realised that maybe she felt the same way about her life. Had she been hiding in the convent? She had told herself she had wanted to become a Bride of Christ, but she had always found so many issues with all the restrictions, and was constantly escaping to her mountain.

Did she really want to live a life where she'd never be able to see her beloved Untersberg again?

"What do you want, then?" the Captain asked.

Maria thought for a moment. There were so many things she wanted, so many things she had denied herself. She didn't even know where to start.

"I – I want to know what it feels like to be kissed," she said softly, feeling like she was speaking incredibly slow and incredibly fast at the same time.

Whether or not she became a nun, whether or not she ever saw the von Trapps again, Maria realised she wanted this.

Even as a child at school she'd never had one of those awkward kisses from a boy because he had been dared by his friends, or wanted to because he thought you were cute and didn't know how else to show it. She blushed beet-red as she added:

"To kiss you."

He seemed momentarily shocked, but then he leaned in and gently took her cheek in his palm, drawing their faces closer and closer until her lips were touching his. She automatically relaxed, closing her eyes, and letting herself forget about everything else.

She had dreamed about this before. And every time she felt guilty, and would automatically drop to the floor and recite as many Hail Marys as she could. But this time it was real, and though she knew she should feel even guiltier, she didn't.

She felt wonderful.

They broke apart. Dazed, she slowly opened her eyes. The Captain was smiling back at her; that small half-smile that she'd seen so many times before. But this one was different.

This smile was for her, and her alone.

"I – I don't want this to end," she breathed.

"It doesn't have to my darling," he replied.

"But what about the Baroness?"

"Don't worry about that," he said, her cheek still cradled in his hand. "Max said a very curious thing to me this morning."

"What was that?" she asked.

"He said that if I loved you, I needed to go out and find you. That Elsa was a problem for later."

"So you won't be marrying her?"

The Captain shook his head. "No. Even if you don't come back, I cannot marry Elsa. Not when I love you."

He drew her closer to him, their mouths meeting once more. Maria thought that maybe this time would be different. Less, somehow, because she'd done it before. But it was not less, it was more. So much more.

It was beautiful.

"Captain…" she said, breathless.

"Maria, please," he said. "Don't do that. Say my name."

For a moment Maria wasn't sure she would be able to say _anything_. She had been breathy and stammering and lost for words since he'd kissed her the first time. But then, while she looked down and wouldn't meet his eyes, she managed to whisper: "Georg."

"I couldn't hear you," he said gently. He lifted her chin with his finger so she was looking at him. "Say it louder, Maria."

"Georg."

She couldn't stop herself from smiling. She loved saying his name.

She loved him.

* * *

Georg couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this happy.

His world had changed, opened up again the day he arrived home from Vienna; his life filling with music and laughter and happiness and smiles, all of which had been absent for the past five years.

All because of the woman in his arms.

He knew, then and there, that the last time he'd been happy in this way, was when Agathe had been in his arms.

He should feel terrible, kissing an aspiring nun, sent to him as the governess for his children, when there was a woman he was all but betrothed to at home.

But he didn't feel anything except bliss.

"Captain," Maria murmured against his chest.

He looked down and gave her a pointed look.

"Georg," she corrected herself with a blush. "Would you drive me back to the Abbey please?"

He was sure he looked stricken. Did she really mean it? Was she really going back to the Abbey, just like that? What about what had just happened? Did he push her too far? Elsa had chased her out by saying something not entirely different.

_Oh God!_ He thought, 'If I pushed her...'

She looked back up at him.

"I need to talk to the Reverend Mother about my future."

* * *

**Hello again. Sorry this took so long. Thanks for the continued support.**

**Georg's lines to Maria about how she can't lie, and asking her to say his name are from _Die Trapp Familie_ and T_he Trapp Family Story Anime_ (ep. 33) respectively. They're both on Youtube if you wanted to watch.**

**Have a great day. **


	4. Chapter 4

"I'll wait for you," Georg told Maria as she stepped out of the car at the front gate of the Abbey.

"Oh no, that's not necessary," she replied softly. She was still getting used to her new relationship with the Captain. _Her_ Captain.

Georg.

"I want to."

"I know," Maria whispered to herself. She wanted that too.

"But shouldn't you go back to the villa?" she continued, her voice louder. "The children, and the…"

She couldn't bring herself to say it. Thankfully Georg seemed to know exactly what she meant. But, instead of answering, all he said was: "But how will you get home?"

"I could catch the bus," she said. "Or I could walk. I walked all the way out to my mountain last night and –"

"I won't have you doing that again," he interrupted.

"So the bus then?"

"How about…" he mused. "What if I come back in a couple hours? You'll have finished with the Mother Abbess then, won't you?"

"I think so," she nodded, ringing the bell by the door.

"Well, if you're not, then I'll wait," he said, not harshly, but with no room for argument.

"Okay."

* * *

"She'll see you now Maria," Sister Margaretta smiled.

Maria smiled kindly at the Mistress of the Postulants, but her hands were shaking as she opened the door and stepped into the Reverend Mother's office.

"Maria," the Reverend Mother sighed in relief. "We were so very worried about you. When Captain von Trapp telephoned saying you had left in the middle of the night we…"

"I'm sorry Mother," Maria felt bad for interrupting the Abbess, but at the same time, she wanted to assure her that nothing was wrong. "I was frightened…"

"Frightened?" the Abbess echoed.

"Yes," she replied, a lump starting to form in her throat. "And I felt ashamed. I couldn't face you, and I needed to think, and…"

She was sure her face was turning red. The Reverend Mother had sent her out into the world, to the von Trapps, to find out if she could expect of herself what the nuns expected of her. And she had failed them.

"What happened?" the Abbess asked kindly.

"Well the Baroness came to my bedroom last night…" Maria began, immediately eased by the elderly nun's comforting words. But almost as quickly, she realised the Reverend Mother knew nothing about this.

She started over.

"She's been courting the Captain for quite some time, and there was a party last night, and we danced, and she saw, and, and…"

"It's alright Maria," the Reverend Mother said softly. "Take your time."

"She told me that the Captain thought he was in love with me, but that he'd get over it," Maria finished.

"Oh?"

"I would never believe him to be that type of man," Maria continued. Despite what Georg had been like the day she first arrived, she had never imagined he would be dishonourable. She also knew the Reverend Mother wouldn't have sent her there if she had thought that. "But it still frightened me."

"I went up to my mountain," she continued. "He came up after me. He found me."

"Did he say anything," the Reverend Mother asked.

"He told me he loves me," Maria replied, her voice thick.

"Do you believe him?"

"Yes," she answered quickly.

"And…" the Abbess prompted.

"And what, Mother?"

"Do you love him?" she asked.

Maria considered for a moment before she spoke.

"I like the kindness in his eyes," she said finally. "I like the way he speaks even when he's stern. I like the way he smiles at little Gretl…"

She drifted off, thinking back to earlier, when he had kissed her 'til she was breathless and her head spun. When he'd asked her to call him Georg. When he said he loved her.

The Abbess nodded slowly as she listened. She seemed to understand what Maria was saying: that she loved Georg without saying she loved him.

"I think you know what you need to do with your life," she said finally, smiling at Maria.

"But you sent me to learn if I could be a nun," she said.

"No," the Reverend Mother corrected kindly. "I sent you out to find if that was what you truly wanted. All I've ever wanted for you was for you to live the life God wanted you to."

Maria realised she was right. Not that she had ever doubted the Reverend Mother. More than being sent out into the world to find out if she possessed the qualities required to be a Bride of Christ, she had been sent out to discover if that truly was God's plan for her.

It did not seem to be.

"So, go live it, my child."

* * *

"Did you find her?" Max asked as soon as Georg walked through the door.

"Yes," Georg answered calmly. He wasn't distressed or panicked or in any way upset, so he hadn't a clue why Max was asking.

Then he remembered Maria wasn't with him.

"Yes, I did," he repeated. "She was up on her mountain. I dropped her off at the Abbey and am going to pick her up in an hour or so."

"Thank goodness," Max said dramatically, though Georg could tell his friend was genuinely relieved at the news. "Now I don't have to worry about the fact that I might've lied to the children."

"What did you tell them?"

"That their governess had gone out for the morning."

"Well, that sounds about right," Georg replied. "Though I should probably talk to them. Where are they?"

* * *

Talking to the children had been easy. Georg just assured them their Uncle Max had told them the truth and Maria would be back soon. The older ones seemed to know there was more that their father wasn't telling them, but the news was so positive that none of them pushed it.

Elsa was going to be harder, and he couldn't deny he was a little nervous. He really didn't want to have to wait all day to talk to Elsa, but he knew he couldn't move further in his relationship with Maria until he had. Neither woman deserved that, and he had already treated Elsa terribly.

Thankfully, he found her quickly. She was sitting in the parlour sipping a cool drink that Georg assumed was lemonade of some sort. She may have forgone her usual routine of sleeping until noon, but she was still acting as if she had.

"Hello darling," Elsa turned, seeing him enter the room. "Max said you'd disappeared for the morning."

"I did," he said. Georg inhaled, to some degree, dreading what was about to happen. "Elsa… we need to talk."

"Oh."

"Elsa, I –" his fingers started wiggling, a nervous twitch he'd had all his life, and one Agathe had loved to tease him about. "I don't think this is going to work. Us."

Now that he'd started, Georg knew he just had to keep going. He tried not to look at Elsa too much as he explained his thoughts; how the children needed a mother more than a stepmother, how they had never even discussed what the future would hold for them, either as a couple or a family, and how they shouldn't settle for mere companionship when they might be able to find love.

Saying that, for the first time he realised maybe Elsa did love him. Not in the way he loved Maria, or had loved Agathe, and maybe not the way she had loved her Heinrich, but certainly more than he could ever love her.

In all honesty, Georg wished he and Elsa could remain friends. He enjoyed her company immensely, and they had had such repartee, even if it was rarely, if ever about anything serious. But he knew that couldn't be the case.

"Yes," she said softly when he'd finished. "I think you're right."

She was being gracious, he knew that. She always was. Just as society deemed men to stay strong and not get emotional, much the same was expected of high class women. They were to act perfectly; sometimes showing even less emotion, murmuring assent and engaging in frivolous small talk.

Born and bred cutting her teeth on high society's distinguished parties and extravagant galas, Elsa would hide her tears from everyone. But Georg knew they would still come.

"You love her," Elsa said.

Georg didn't know what to say. All he could do was look at her.

"Georg, anyone could see it," she continued, trying to sound light-hearted, but failing. "I've never seen you look at anyone that way. But I have seen it before."

She was right. Everyone seemed to have noticed he was in love with Maria. Everyone except him. Even Maria had understood her feelings to some degree – that's why she'd run away. But Georg hadn't realised until she'd done that.

"It's love," Elsa stated simply. "And you shouldn't throw that away."

Another thing beholden to the upper-class: marriage out of necessity rather than love. Isn't that exactly what he and Elsa had been planning? But Elsa had been one of the lucky few who had been able to marry for love.

She understood.

"Well then," Elsa sighed. She placed her glass on the sideboard and made her way to the door. "I must begin packing if I'm to make it back to Vienna."

"I'll tell Franz to bring the car round," Georg said, turning around, finally finding his voice.

"Oh, I can do that," Elsa said softly. Then, without another word, she left the room and disappeared up the stairs.

Georg wanted to call out to her; say something, but he knew it would only make things worse. If he tried to apologise he'd just sound more uncaring. And he'd already hurt her enough.

"She'll be fine Georg," Max said. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "Don't worry about her."

"You don't think I treated her terribly Max?" Georg asked. "And I thought you wanted all the lovely money to stay in the family."

"I did," Max replied, for a moment displaying his infamous cynicism. "And yes, things with Elsa could've been much smoother. But, I think it will be better for everybody in the long run."

"You're a good friend Max," he said. "I don't tell you that enough."

* * *

Georg met Maria outside the Abbey gates just after noon. He could see her face light up when he drove the car around the corner.

He was out of the car as soon as he'd turned off the engine, even though Maria was standing not a metre away.

"I missed you," he said.

"How horribly sentimental you've become Captain," she teased.

He laughed. She was right. He didn't think he had ever been like this in his life – not even with Agathe. But there was something about Maria that made him emotional in ways he had never been before.

He took her hands in his. He could feel her trembling, but she was smiling.

"What did you tell the children?" she asked.

"That you had to go back to the Abbey to think about some things," he answered. "And that you would be back soon."

He smiled, almost as if he were asking her to confirm what they both already knew; that she was going back.

"And the Baroness?" she gulped.

"It went as well as could be expected I think," he said. "It was hard to do, but it needed to be done. And I know Elsa will be fine."

Maria nodded slowly.

"What did the Reverend Mother say to you?" he asked.

"She said that I already knew what God's plan for me was," she told him. "That I already know what I want to do with my life."

"And what is that?" he asked gently.

"To be with you," she replied. "And the children. To be with my family. If you'll have me."

He smiled. Even now, after everything that had happened today, she still found it hard believing he could want her.

"I would like nothing more," he replied sincerely. "If _you'll_ have _me_."

"I will."

He pulled her close and gently pressed his lips to hers. He felt her arms move up and snake around his neck.

He had never seen her so happy than when they broke apart.

She had never been more beautiful

"Let's go home," he whispered.

"Home," smiled Maria. "That sounds wonderful."


	5. Chapter 5

Georg pulled the car up in front of the house, and they both stepped out. Maria collected her old carpetbag while Georg took her guitar case. They had barely made it through the door when Maria's stomach growled. Georg laughed.

"You must be starving," he smiled.

"Yes, I am a little," Maria admitted. She had been planning to leave to find some breakfast when Georg found her on her mountain, but in the wake of their conversation and her visit to the Abbey to talk with the Reverend Mother, it hadn't happened.

No wonder she was famished.

"Why don't you go upstairs and get yourself settled?" Georg suggested. He laid the guitar case on the floor at her feet. "And I'll make sure there's something for you to eat when you come down."

"Okay," she replied softly.

And with one more smile to each other, they went off in their separate directions.

* * *

Maria had thought maybe leaving Georg behind, even for a brief period of time, would make her feel lonely, but opening that door and stepping back into her bedroom didn't feel anything like that, even without her Captain beside her.

It felt like coming home.

She placed the guitar case by the desk, and the carpetbag on one of the chairs. She'd unpack properly later; she wasn't going anywhere now, after all.

She opened her closet to find all the dresses she had made and received since she arrived at the villa hanging inside. She hadn't been able to bring herself to take them with her. Maybe it was because she knew they'd only be delivered to the poor, and selfishly she didn't want that to happen. Maybe she thought it would be too painful.

She didn't know. And now, it didn't matter.

Without really looking, she reached inside and pulled out a dress – the one she had worn the day the Captain and his guests had returned from Vienna – and laid it out carefully on the bed.

She changed out of the scratchy dress that she'd worn when she'd left last night – and first arrived in, for that matter –, went into the bathroom, splashed some cold water on her face, ran her fingers through her hair, and left; heading downstairs to the dining room.

* * *

After Maria had eaten, she made her way through the house, towards the foyer and the stairs to the mezzanine. Now that things had calmed down a little, she wanted to go and see the children. She hadn't seen them since they said goodnight at the party last night, and, with her heart now aching to see them, she wondered how she could have possibly decided to leave them at all.

She was so eager to see them that it was only the noise of someone's feet that drew her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw Baroness Schraeder walking down the stairs. She was carrying a small valise that Maria guessed probably cost more than all of her possessions combined; and she was sure there were many more to either come down, or already outside.

She was leaving.

Maria tried to skirt past as inconspicuously as possible; she was still on her guard around this woman, and regardless of where or why she was going, she was sure the Baroness wouldn't want to see her.

But then, the Baroness called out to her, and she froze.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say…" she paused for a long moment. "…that I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Maria repeated. She wasn't even sure if she meant it, or if the Baroness meant it, or what any of this meant.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you," the Baroness continued. "Not in the way I said them."

"No, it's alright," Maria replied quickly, her heart was still pounding. "It wasn't my place –"

"To fall in love?" the older woman interrupted, looking directly at her for the first time. "I don't think that's anyone's place. We can't help it."

She smiled kindly at her, and Maria could see that she really did love Captain von Trapp. She wasn't just an aloof, haughty socialite**, **confronting Maria to remind her that she was the governess. She was a woman who'd been hurt, and she was backing out with all the grace expected of someone of her station.

"Look after him," she whispered.

"I will," Maria replied with a nod. The Baroness looked at her for a long moment, wistful, before turning and walking out the door.

* * *

Once she had collected herself from her unexpected encounter with the Baroness, Maria returned to her original objective and went off to look for the children.

Given lunch time had passed, she imagined they would be in the nursery, rather than their schoolroom; and sure enough, the moment Maria walked through the door, all seven of them abandoned whatever they had been doing, and were racing toward her. Before she knew it, Marta and Gretl were hugging her while the other five stayed close behind, smiling.

"Did you do all your thinking?" asked Marta.

"Yes," she replied with a laugh.

"Will you be leaving again?" Gretl asked.

"No _schatzi_," Maria smiled, realising how true her statement was, and how happy it made her.

These children, these beautiful, amazing children, had always felt like hers in a sense; Maria had come to love them so quickly.

She looked over her shoulder, to find Georg had found his way up here as well. He remained silent, but he smiled back at her. It was all she needed to know that he was hers.

Now they were all really were hers.

* * *

The children knew something was happening between their father and their governess, Georg could tell, even though nobody said a word about it for the rest of the day, all the way through dinner. He was almost sure some of them – mostly the older ones – knew what it was, but the younger ones wouldn't.

Georg was glad about that. He didn't want to announce anything to the children until it had been wholly sorted out between him and Maria, nor did it feel right to break the news to them on his own.

Regardless the atmosphere at the dinner table was happier than it had been for a long time, and it wasn't solely because of Elsa's departure. Just like their father, it seemed Maria's brief absence had made the children realise what she meant to them, and they weren't going to let her go; in Marta and Gretl's case, almost literally.

Max occasionally said something to him, but Georg didn't much notice; his gaze all but glued to the other end of the table. Yet, thoughtful as he had been that morning, Georg knew – though he couldn't focus on his friend now – everything Max was saying was completely sincere and genuine.

He was so grateful to him.

"Fraulein Maria?" Gretl whispered. The interaction, simple as it was, made Georg smile. He guessed everyone else in the room was smiling too.

"Yes?" she asked sweetly.

"Could we go up to your mountain tomorrow?"

Georg saw Maria give him the briefest of glances before answering: "If the weather's good, I can't see why not."

"Father," Marta piped up.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Would you come with us?"

Georg smiled at his daughter. Then he looked up at Maria. And then he looked back at Marta.

"I would love to," he answered.

He couldn't wait to visit that mountain again.

* * *

Georg found Maria outside by the gazebo after dinner. She had changed into that beautiful blue dress she'd worn the night of the puppet show.

The night he started falling in love with her.

He almost didn't want to disturb her. Sitting there on the bench, with the moonlight flooding her, she looked so beautiful and at peace.

But he wanted to be with her more.

"Hello."

"Hello," she replied softly, her cheeks colouring. Georg could tell she was fighting her instinct to look away. Her modesty made him love her all the more, but he hoped one day to help her realise how worthy she truly was.

He sat down on the bench beside her, and for a moment they sat together in silence, the wind the only sound to be heard.

Finally, Georg took her hand, and when she was looking straight at him, he leaned over and kissed her softly. She melted into him, and he felt her reach around his waist at the same time his wrapped around her.

When they parted he saw Maria looked wonderstruck, and could only imagine he looked much the same way too.

He didn't fully realise what he wanted to say until he'd already started talking.

"Maria," he breathed. "Will you marry me?"

Her eyes widened, and for a moment she said nothing.

Georg panicked, wondering whether he had made a huge mistake. The first words out of his mouth should probably not be a proposal; what if Maria wasn't ready for this?

He had been caught up in his newfound happiness, and logic and clear thinking seemed to have abandoned him. He'd seen how happy Maria had been on her mountain after he'd told her he loved her, knew how much she loved the children, but he was still rushing to conclusions.

He had been thinking ten steps ahead, planning the rest of their lives, without even thinking about her.

He immediately wanted to apologise for his behaviour, to reassure her, but before he could say anything, she spoke:

"You came after me when no one else did," she whispered. "You're the first person to do that."

Now he was waiting for her to say more. Did she want this, or had he frightened her again? He knew he was holding his breath, but he couldn't help it.

It seemed like an age before she answered:

"Yes."


	6. Epilogue

Three Months Later

They stayed behind for a moment. They had gone as far as they could in the car, but from here on, they would be going on foot.

"I've always thought of these mountains as my friends," Georg said "Standing there protecting us."

He looked ahead forlornly, and in a somewhat choked voice, continued:

"But now…"

The children were already climbing ahead; the boys up the front, leading the way, Marta and Gretl with their hands clasped in Liesl's. He was so worried for them; in addition to the fact that they were running for their lives, any number of tragedies could befall any one of them.

He felt as if the mountains had become his enemies.

"They will protect us," Maria assured him. "We just need to have faith. And believe in ourselves."

Georg looked at his wife. In the cold air, her cheeks were pinker than normal, but despite the potentially perilous journey they were about to make, her smile was as bright and as enthusiastic as ever.

And Georg knew that for the most part, that was genuine.

She didn't care that forty-eight hours ago they had been in Paris, on their honeymoon.

She'd gone from a struggling postulant, to an overwhelmed governess, to the wife of a famous war hero, in the span of a few months. And now, in less than a week, she'd lost all of it.

The Anschluss had finally arrived. The Chancellor had yielded to Hitler and their entire world was in upheaval. He'd been planning for months, how they would handle their departure from the country. It had always been a case of _when_, not _if_.

He hadn't expected it happen like this; escaping over the mountains on foot, with the Nazis tailing them.

But the biggest surprise of all was that he was doing it with Maria. That she – not Elsa Schraeder – was the second Baroness von Trapp.

Even if she hadn't technically lost it, Georg knew Maria didn't mind losing that title. She'd hated it from the start. Whenever somebody had called her 'Baroness' she either cringed, or looked around confused, like she didn't think they were addressing her at all.

He didn't mind it either. He didn't care that none of his titles were likely to mean anything for quite some time. He had his family.

He had known for a long time that he'd be leaving Austria one day. But all the planning and forewarning in the world couldn't prepare someone for this.

But, since Maria came into his life, a lot of things that seemed impossible before now seemed possible.

They were going to get through this. He knew it.

* * *

"It was all because of a mountain," mused Maria.

"What was that?" Georg asked.

"That's how it all started," she replied. "It was the mountain that brought me to the Abbey. And then the Abbey sent me to you."

"It was the mountain that led me to you," she told him solemnly.

'To my family,' she thought happily.

One year ago, if someone had told Maria that she would be on her mountain with her family – with her husband – she wouldn't have believed them. She had no family, and the only person whose bride she'd ever be was Christ.

But looking up the path at the seven amazing children she already thought of as her own, with the comfort of Georg beside her, nothing felt more right.

With everything that had transpired since the beginning of the summer she had both lost and found her home.

"I guess it was the same for me," he pondered.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"The night you left," he explained. "I couldn't let you get away; couldn't imagine what our lives would be like without you."

Maria nodded slowly,

"I knew I had to find you," he carried on. "And I knew you'd be on the mountain. It was your special place. Your mountain."

"If I hadn't known about it…" he sighed; Maria could see the glimmer of wistfulness; the heartbreak that could've been, "…you might not be here."

Her husband was right. If not for one tiny thing, everything could've been so different. Who knows where she would be if he hadn't come and found her that day.

But things happened the way they did for a reason, and Maria could imagine no better future for her than one by Georg's side.

Ideally, they would've lived happily in Salzburg for the rest of their lives, surrounded by the children and their beloved mountains.

But this wasn't an ideal world. And Maria would never dream of asking Georg to compromise his principles for the sake of pretend safety. Even if he were to accept the offer from Berlin, they could never be truly safe, of that much she was certain.

All that would be left was a guilty conscience.

She smiled, and they both looked up at the track that climbed ever higher; invisible and unknown.

The children had noticed they weren't following them, and had stopped to look back.

"We need to go, don't we?" it came out like a question but they both knew it really wasn't one.

Georg nodded. "Yes."

With one final smile, Maria took her husband's hand and, with him at her side, began to climb up the path.

* * *

The mountain had led them to each other. And now they were going over the mountain together.


End file.
